I think I succeeded, to a certain extent, in making my wife happy--but there was always the same gnawing regret....' 'You must put all that out of your head,' she interrupted curtly.
'I cannot.

A man doesn't love a woman like you, and, because she is married to another man, put her out of his head--in two years or ten--or Eternity, for that matter.' She laughed joylessly.

'Eternity!' she scoffed.
They were in the veranda after luncheon, she swinging slowly in the hammock, playing with a cigarette, he smoking likewise, scarcely attempting to suppress the stormy feeling in his face and voice.

For her, the crude brown-grey landscape rose and fell with the motion of the hammock, and jarred with the exotic memories he evoked.

She had been called back to the varied emotional interests of her girlhood, and realised, in a rush, how deadly dull was life in the arid wastes of the Never-Never.